


Very Specific Taste

by HeartHarps



Series: Man in the Moon [2]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 11:04:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartHarps/pseuds/HeartHarps
Summary: “Why don’t you start with what you know about Wendimoor.”Dirk took a moment to process that, then burst out laughing.





	Very Specific Taste

**Author's Note:**

> This is a big elaborate everything-is-connected mystery fic. It's also a sequel. Series description:  
> A plausible but improbable plot for Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency Season 3. This doesn't have a defining genre, unless domestic fanfiction is a genre.  
> I'm pretty sure the only plot points that aren't discussed are:  
> -pararibulitis  
> -Amanda having the magic wand

“And that’s why I can never go back to her. She hurt me worse than she even knows,” Lieutenant Assistent explained.

“Shit, Assistent. I didn’t know regular people’s lives could be so complicated,” Bart returned, taking another piece of bread from the plate that sat between them on the ground. She hadn’t felt like eating earlier when they’d pushed the plate under the door of her cell. Once Assistent showed up, Bart realized it was bonding food. Here she was, bonding with another human. She decided she liked it when the universe told her to do that.

“To be honest, I didn’t know either,” He said, and they both laughed. 

The memory of Assistent tumbling through her door replayed in her head, him screaming, “ _ Please don’t kill me! Please _ !” To which Bart had dryly asked why she would do that. 

“Hey, why’d they throw you in here anyways?” She asked, nibbling on the bread.

Assistent smiled. “Ken got mad at me. They thought you'd kill me.”

That didn’t sound like Ken. “Why? Whadja do?”

He glanced at the cameras before admitting, “I said he was starting to act like Friedkin.”

Bart could tell he thought that was bad, so she nodded. Then, “Who’s Friedkin?”

 

+

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve gathered you all here,” Todd tried to say ominously, but Amanda rolled her eyes. “Tina wants us to play a song for Farah’s birthday.”

“What?” Dirk piped up.

“Yeah. Apparently Farah loved hearing us all jam and won’t stop talking about it, so.”

“Shit.”

“Wow.”

“So? Are you guys in?”

“I mean, what would we play?” Amanda asked.

“Something Farah likes,” Dirk pointed out.

Todd considered that. “I can ask Tina to look at her music.”

“Sure. I’m in.”

“Why not?” Dirk said, and then started: “You’ll help me, right?”

“Obviously,” Todd clarified. “Alright, operation Happy Birthday Farah is a go.”

 

+

“If I get it right can I have a kiss?” 

“If you get it right, you can have the satisfaction of giving your best friend the gift of music for her birthday. Okay? One, two, three, four.” 

Todd kept time on the cajón while Dirk started the bass line. The song was  _ You Only Live Once _ by The Strokes, the sole occupant of the center of the venn diagram comparing songs Todd and Amanda already knew, songs Dirk could feasibly learn, and songs Farah liked. Eventually Todd would be singing, but for now he hummed his own guitar part and listened to Dirk. He let him play for a minute before calling it. “Good enough.”

Dirk started to protest when Todd stood, but didn’t have the chance as Todd leaned down and pecked him on the lips.

 

+

“Why is Todd’s car on the street?” Farah asked as they approached Amanda’s house.

“Hm?” Tina sounded.

“Todd is parked on the street and the driveway is empty.”

“So we can park there.”

“It’s wide enough for two.”

Tina just made a sound like  _ I don’t know _ and tried not to look at Farah. Just before pulling into the drive, she hit the garage door opener.

“What the fff…” Farah started, but didn’t finish.

The garage door opened to reveal Amanda on drums and Dirk on bass, already hitting out the opening notes. As Farah got out, Todd started the melody on his guitar. Tina came around and said, “Surprise!” Farah accepted Tina’s hug, face betraying that she was very surprised and very happy and very close to tears and also laughter. 

Todd started to sing. “ _ Some people think they're always right _ .  _ Others are quiet and uptight _ .” 

Farah and Tina separated. Farah lay her hand over her heart as she looked to her friends. Todd gave her a wink. “ _ Others they seem so very nice nice nice nice, oh ho. Inside they might feel sad and wrong, oh ho. _

“ _ Don’t don’t don’t get up! _ ” They slammed into the chorus, Todd stepping away from the mic to hit the four chords. “ _ I can't see the sunshine. I'll be waiting for you, baby. ‘Cause I'm through. _

“ _ Sit me down! _ ”

As Todd played the solo, he hovered near Dirk and just enjoyed being there, and playing with him. Tina took Farah’s hand and started dancing. 

“ _ Shut me up. I'll calm down, and I'll get along with you. _ ”

-

It occurred to Amanda first, during the party that followed their garage concert. Farah and Tina were slow dancing to Lorde, Todd and Dirk were drinking on the couch, and Vogel was ordering pizza in the kitchen. Amanda sat down between Todd and Dirk—not that there was much space there to start—threw her arms around their shoulders and said, “You know, we could do it for real.”

“Hm?” Todd asked, still adjusting so he was less crushed.

“Play music. We could be a band. A good one.”

There was a pause. “Could we?” Dirk asked, looking to Todd.

Todd looked surprised. “I mean, we're not bad?”

Amanda didn’t like that. “Come on. We jam all the time. Dirk, you're awesome. Todd you're okay. We should just do like Battle of the Bands together or something.”

“There's one in June, actually. That could work.”

“That would be a dream come true,” Dirk said.

“Holy shit.” Amanda stood. “Holy shit! Am I in a band?”

 

+

“Bart,  _ please _ ,” Ken said. He was doing a lot of begging these days. 

Bart just reclined in her chair, staring him down. “I’m tellin’ you, this is what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Nothing!?”

“Yes! Nothing!”

Ken slammed his hands on the table as he stood up, turning away and pressing his fingertips to his temple. Bart didn’t like that, but no matter how much of an asshole Ken was, the universe wouldn’t let her kill him. 

“You know it’s cause we’re on opposite sides, right?” She said, but he didn’t move. “We’re supposed to be together. Just, not like this. Somewhere else. I could get out, but only if you come with me—”

“I need results!” Ken shouted, cutting Bart off. When he turned around, there were tears in his eyes. Now quiet, he said, “I need a picture, or an object, that proves the stream of creation, has leaves.” He sat back down. “Please.”

Bart just snorted. “You really are starting to act like French Fry.”

“Who?”

“Y’know, French Fry? Always crying and getting other people to do his work for him? Disappeared after the invasion thingy?”

“... _ Friedkin _ ?”

 

+

Todd started at the top of his list. “Moloch's Men.”

“ _ That _ sounds badass,” Amanda said. “Great for a band name.”

“Moloch is the god of child sacrifice,” Dirk explained flatly, and Todd surreptitiously crossed it off. “How about One Answer?”

“Dirk, that sounds like a boy band,” Todd countered, and looked to his sister and her list of ideas. “Amanda?”

“The Rowdy 4,” She read.

Todd laughed out loud. Dirk paled, and squeaked, “No thank you.”

“Okay,” Todd said, feeling kind of bad, “How about Pink Panto?”

“That sounds like Pink Panther,” Amanda warned.

“Shit.”

“How about Litzibitz?” She proposed.

“Lit—. What?” Todd exclaimed.

“She’s Panto's sister and she's super cool.”

Dirk spoke up. “Todd that reminds me, are you going to litz my bitz later?”

“Dirk!”

“Holy fuck I take it back.”

Todd tried not to laugh or look at Amanda. “Someone else, someone else.”

“Canadian Birthday!” Amanda offered.

Dirk looked impressed but Todd shook his head. “The opposite of a funeral is a baptism, and Luiza would probably sue me. Dirk?”

“Lux DeJour.”

“He was a singer, though,” Amanda pointed out.

“Oh yeah.” Dirk looked disappointed.

“The Boy and the Boys,” Todd said.

Amanda laughed and mock-shouted, “Is that girl a boy too?”

“Yes!” Todd exclaimed, and Dirk just stared at them, looking confused. “It's from a movie,” Todd tried to explain, but Dirk didn't waiver.

“Berg,” Amanda read. “Or, Bergsberg County Sheriff’s Department.”

“That's cute,” Todd pointed out.

“Berg sounds like a Star Trek character,” Dirk reminded, making Todd and Amanda gag, “And for some reason I feel like Farah would hate us being named Sheriff’s Department.”

“Yeah you're right,” Amanda agreed.

Dirk looked back to his list. “If you put the names Panto and Silas together, you get Pantlas, which sounds like, wait for it, Pantsless.”

“No.”

He tried again. “Scissoring.”

“No!”

“Wet Dream! Because—”

“ _ No _ !!!”

“How about Wendimoor Moon?” Todd interrupted. Amanda and Dirk looked surprised but interested. Todd proceeded with caution: “The moon there was kind of weird, but to some people, it was their home. It's a nice sounding phrase, and we don't have to worry about other people stealing it.”

“Because it's made up,” Amanda added, “If anyone asks.”

“Right.” Dirk agreed.

“You...you guys like it?”

“Todd, that's a sick name.”

“I’m in.”

“Really? You want that to be our name? Wendimoor Moon, that's us.” 

“...Yeah.”

“Sure.”

 

+

Farah

staff meeting 5 seconds

2:04pm

rudez 

2:04pm

 

Todd meandered into Dirk’s office and perched on the arm of the couch. “What’s up?”

Farah handed each of them a printout of something with a lot of numbers. “You guys know it’s been a slow month. Commissions are going to be a lot lower this month. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

They looked over their sheets. Todd wished he could understand it.

“Any questions?” Farah asked.

Dirk spoke for both of them apparently, “No, thank you Farah, if you could just give me and Todd a minute.”

She bowed out.

“Can you read this?” Todd asked.

“I can see that revenue is a small number and expenses is a big number.”

“Perfect, me neither,” Todd mumbled, walked over, and climbed up onto Dirk’s desk. They sat in silence for a moment, not touching because rules were rules, not talking because there wasn’t anything to say.

Well, Todd thought that, at least. Before long Dirk reached to take Todd’s hand and asked, “How are things going with us?”

“Um… Good?”

“I’m asking you.”

“Good, yes, really good.

Dirk smiled, and then sighed. “I was saving this, but…”

Todd nearly fell off when he saw Dirk pull a one inch box out of the drawer.

“It’s not a ring,” Dirk clarified, but Todd’s heart was still beating out of his chest. Dirk opened the box and asked, “Will you move in with me?”

“Yes!” Todd exclaimed, grabbing the custom printed guitar pick (with the Wendimoor Moon logo Amanda had sketched) out of the box and throwing his arms around Dirk. “Yes, yes, I will!”

“Oh. Okay—”

“Wait,” Todd said, sitting back. “Is this because your detective agency can’t pay me?”

“Todd, you know I want you to think of it as your agency too.”

Todd raised an eyebrow.

“We’ll both save money. And we won’t have to walk a flight of stairs for sex anymore.”

“You really thought this through.”

“I always do.”

“No you don’t.”

“I always...something.”

Todd smiled. “I love you.” 

 

+

“You’ve got this, okay?” Todd said, looking up at Dirk as they hugged backstage. “You’ve done it a million times. Just like practice.”

Dirk nodded, wearing a small smile. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Todd leaned up and they kissed once.

“Wendimoor Moon! One minute!” 

They separated and moved for their guitars. Vogel pressed a kiss to Amanda’s cheek, wished everyone luck and headed back out to the audience, where Farah and Tina were waiting. Amanda bounced a little. Todd straightened Dirk’s jacket—the yellow one, his favourite. Todd wanted everyone to be comfortable, so he let him wear it. Amanda was in a flowy white dress from a phase with the Rowdies. Todd wore his new denim jacket, which was now covered in plenty of meaningless or meaningful bullshit, and looked way cooler than his old one ever did.

As their time drew near, they linked hands in a circle and Todd said, “We’re the best fucking band on the planet. Don’t forget it.”

“ _ Please welcome, Wendimoor Moon! _ ”

The crowd cheered as they went out. Dirk waved to Farah as he got out his own logo pick. (You had to buy 30 at once, so he was hoping the band worked out.) 

“Hi everyone,” Todd said as he adjusted his microphone, “We are Wendimoor Moon, thanks for coming out and enjoy the show.” He walked over to Amanda and faced away from the crowd as she clicked her sticks 4 times to give Todd the beat. 

He started in on the melody. As he repeated it, he walked back upstage. Dirk and Amanda came in all at once, solid notes, kick drums and cymbals. The song was  _ My Type _ by Saint Motel. It was a simple song, but it was upbeat and fun. Dirk had found it and they’d all learned it together. 

Todd skipped back to the mic. “ _Oooohhh, and take a look around the room_ ,” Todd sang as the instruments scaled back, letting the audience hear his voice. “ _Love comes wearing disguises. How to go about and choose? Break it down by shapes and sizes._ _I'm a man who's got very specific taste_.”

And they ramped it back up to 100. “ _ You-you-you're just! My! Type! _ ” Todd sang, slamming the chords out. _ “Oh, you gotta pulse and you are breathing. You-you-you're just my type! Oooh, I think it's time that we get leaving.You-you-you're just my type. Oooohhh. _ ”

 

+

They didn't win. Not even close. But, two weeks later, the runner up got a hold of Todd and asked if Wendimoor Moon would open for them tomorrow night. Which Todd graciously accepted, and then graciously started to freak the fuck out.

“Dirk!” He yelled, and suddenly realized he didn't know where Dirk was. Their apartment was small; there wasn't many places he could be. “Dirk?” Todd called again, checking the bedroom and then throwing open the bathroom door.

“ _ Occupied, _ ” Dirk mused, continuing to stare at his magazine.

“I've… We,” Todd stammered and drummed on the door.

Dirk looked up. “I'm a little busy here, darling.”

Todd blinked. “Right.” He left Dirk to it and called Amanda.

 

+

They opened for Versatile twice and then Old Man Jenkins. Then someone else cancelled so the bar called them back. Someone asked when their next show was and Todd realized: they needed a website.

-

“Please please please please please!”

“Please, Farah I’ll work for free! I'll do anything!”

“Please please, Farah, pleeeeeeease—”

“Fine!” Farah called, silencing the members of the band she feared she had created. A website for Wendimoor Moon wouldn't be difficult at all, way easier than the one she’d made for the agency. “But I get ten percent of everything you make.”

“We don't—” Amanda started, but Todd elbowed her.

Dirk finished, “Deal.”

After they shook hands, Farah said, “You guys don't make anything, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing.”

“I'll put ads on the site,” She resolved. “ _ If _ it makes enough to pay me back, then you guys can have a cut.”

 

+

_ Incoming call from: Farah _ .

“Hello?”

“Todd! Hi, it's me.”

“Hey what's up?”

“So, the website's live.”

“What? I thought you were gonna come over and—”

“It’s Tina, she wants my help at the station. Someone managed to burn the Cardenas’ house down. I'm sure it's nothing but she and Hobbes are swamped.”

“Burned down? That sounds—”

“I gotta go, okay? Bye Todd.”

“Okay, t—”

_ Call ended. _

“Who was that?” Amanda asked from the living room. Dirk pulled his attention away from his phone to look up in interest.

“Uh, Farah.” Todd sighed and forgot the weirdness of that conversation to celebrate that, “The website's live!”

Dirk and Amanda cheered.

 

\+ 2 weeks later

“Hi! We’re Wendimoor Moon, we're so excited you're here. My name's Todd, we have Dirk Gently on bass and Rowdy Amanda on drums.” 

They got a  _ whoop _ from somewhere in the bar.

“We're gonna start it off with a song I wrote. This is called  _ Happy Song _ .”

Amanda counted and brought the song in heavy. Todd and Dirk joined in, guitars dancing around each other as they came up on the verse.

“ _ Stop right there, think of all the light that was once shining through all your walls _ ,” Todd sang, feeding off the crowd as they started to get into it. No matter how many Haim covers Moon slayed, he  _ loved _ performing his own music. 

Amanda slammed on the drums. Todd's whole body was moving with the beat as he sang, carrying the bass line in his heels. “ _ That could all come back. No matter how long you just see black, no light at all _ .” The stage lights glinted off the moon logo on his pick as he strummed out chord after chord. The stage was warm. Todd was sure he looked disgusting and ridiculous, but he felt amazing.

As he built into the chorus, Todd couldn't help but glance at Dirk and give him a smile. “ _ Everything you’ve done will mean something to someone. Someday down the line, it’s all gonna matter _ .” He always smiled at him.  _ Happy Song _ was  _ about _ him, after all. The audience was really taking to it, so Todd danced along with them as he punched out the chords.

But he didn't even finish the chorus. “ _ No one’s heart could ever fully shatter _ ,” He sang, before what he thought were skirmishing bar-goers charged towards the stage with vests and guns.

Todd froze. A  _ Happy _ chord cut short into fear, the last two words stuck in his throat.  _ You’re okay _ . 

He looked at Dirk. Dirk was looking at him.  _ You’re okay _ , Todd couldn’t say. He knew Amanda was yelling even though he couldn't hear her. He couldn't hear anything. Not the shouts of the people in black, not the crowd he assumed was panicking. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, and all he could see was Dirk, white in the face, looking absolutely terrified. 

_ You’re okay _ .

 

+

“I'm starting to think it's a universe thing,” Dirk said. It was the first thing any of them had said since the CIA had carted them off and stored them in some badly lit basement. They had been in separate vans, but now Todd and Dirk were circled by one set of bars, and Amanda in the set next to them. It had maybe been an hour since  _ Happy _ was interrupted.

Todd's back was against the rack of bars they shared with Amanda, one hand reaching back to hold hers. Dirk was practically lying on the ground with his arms clutched around Todd's waist. 

“Hm?” Todd said, as he petted Dirk's hair. He usually would have been fidgeting with his phone, but luckily Vogel had all of their phones and wallets because Todd didn't like bringing that stuff on stage. If they’d had them, they would've gotten confiscated.

“We always get locked up together,” Dirk said, quieter this time.

Todd thought back. “You're right. Maybe it was the universe. Trying to get us together,” He joked. At first he was scared it was out of line, but when he looked, Dirk was smiling.

They heard Amanda sniffle. “You guys are so fucking cute,” She said.

“Are you crying?” Todd asked.

“No!” Amanda yelled, but Todd could hear the moisture in her sinuses.

He gave her a moment to sniffle and wipe at her eyes before saying, “It's gonna be okay.”

“No it's not,” Amanda mumbled.

“Yes it is.”

He left it at that, focusing on not focusing on anything in particular and distracting Dirk with hair-pets.

Todd didn't realize he had started humming  _ Happy Song _ until Dirk was saying the words quietly. Amanda tapped on the floor in time. He kept humming.

“ _ You’re okay _ ,” Dirk whispered.

 

+

It was another hour until anyone came to get them. Dirk sat up at the sound of the door down the hall, and when the black-clad men started towards their cell, tears pricked his eyes instantly. 

“Hey,” Todd said, and pulling him into a hug and squeezing. Dirk buried himself; he didn't want to see or hear anything. “Everything's going to be okay. I'm here.”

Dirk was shivering and trying to breath. _ I can't do this _ , he thought, and jumped at the  _ clack _ of the lock.  _ I can't _ . But then people were grabbing him and he was  _ trying _ to get away. He stretched away from wherever they touched him, grasping and kicking but finding no purchase. Dirk didn’t realize he was out of his cell until he heard the door clang shut.

“Dirk!”

“Todd!” He yelled back, looking and stretching to see Todd but… He couldn’t. He couldn’t find Todd.  _ I can’t find Todd. I can’t. _

-

Thankfully, yet confusingly, Dirk was  _ not _ brought to any of the rooms that still plagued his nightmares. There was no meticulously made bed, no shock helmets, no bombs. Not a brightly coloured jelly in sight. No, Dirk was sitting handcuffed to a table, his own reflection staring straight back at him in a large mirror. The only other things he could see were the door and the security camera staring back down at him. It smelled like fresh paint.

After a few minutes, someone stepped inside, but Dirk was relieved when he didn’t recognize him. Then he thought just because this guy didn’t look like Riggins, Friedkin, or Ken, didn’t mean he wasn’t just as bad.

The man didn’t appear to have a gun, or even a file, just an analog tape recorder that he set between them as he sat down. 

_ Weird _ .

“Why don’t you go ahead and state your name for the record?”

_ Very weird _ . “D—… You don’t know my name?”

Dirk saw a flash of  _ something _ on his face. “ _ I _ know your name, but you have to state it for the record.”

_ We’ll see about that _ . “My name is…Dorian...Hammerhead.”

“No it’s not.”

“It could be!” Dirk leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest—as well as he could while chained to the desk, still. “Something’s going on here.”

“Why don’t you start with what you know about Wendimoor.”

Dirk took a moment to process that, then burst out laughing. But when his interrogator's expression actually changed, he cut himself off. “Right! Wendimoor, I can tell you  _ all  _ about it. Don’t even bother asking the others about it because, they don’t know. They haven’t been there. I haven’t even been there, because, it’s made up.”

Dirk realized his friend was eating it up. “Made up?” He asked, looking intrigued.

“Yes. Fictional.”

“Then why did you name your band after it?” The guy asked.

_ Ah. _ Many things fell into place in Dirk’s mind. “Be—because I…had a friend who made it up. Yeah, he made it up, and then he moved to…Winnipeg.”

“Your friend.”

“It’s in Canada,” Dirk explained.

The interrogator looked confused. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Because you don’t know enough to prove me wrong. I’m right, aren’t I? And if you ask my friends, they'll tell you the exact same thing.”

 

+

“I'm sorry! I'll tell you everything!” Todd yelled, as soon as someone came into his interrogation room. “Just please don't hurt Dirk!” As soon as they had wrestled Dirk out the door, more muscle dragged Amanda out, and then Todd. He had no idea where they were, or if they were ok.

“Settle down,” The woman said as she took the seat opposite him. “Nobody's hurting anybody.”

“Yet! Nobody's hurt until he gets something wrong!” Todd tried to focus, but his mind was processing a mile a minute. “Just just just, just tell me if he’s okay?”

“Your friend, he's okay.”

“I don't believe you,” Todd said, realizing it as he said it.  _ Shit _ . 

“You said his name was Dirk?”

“Yes! I'll tell you everything!”

The woman looked intrigued. “Okay.”

“It was Mona! Mona Wilder helped him. She's the one you want. And then Dirk went back for her, and they were killing everyone and blowing stuff up. But now we run an agency, Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, and Mona helped us so we helped her hide in Los Angeles. She's in Los Angeles!” Todd breathed. “Is Dirk ok? Can I see him?”

Todd realized the woman looked rather overwhelmed and confused. “I'll be back,” She said.

 

+

Two entire minutes passed.

“Anytime you wanna start talking.”

Amanda spit.

Another two minutes passed. 

“Any time.”

Two minutes. He got up and left.

 

+

Farah was chilling at the front desk of the Bergsberg County Sheriff's Office, looking through Snapchat stories when it occurred to her. Amanda had posted a pre-show selfie, and it reminded Farah of the website she had completed two weeks prior. She hadn't checked the stats lately. Now would be especially good, since they had a show that night.

She clicked into the office computer, logging into the web host and then opening it up, wendimoormoon.com.

“What?” She whispered, confused when the browser gave her an IP address error. She tried to check the settings—but the computer started flashing red warnings.

Farah hadn't seen this before. As she started a Google search, she absentmindedly found Todd's contact in her phone. She chose a Stack Overflow forum and started skimming. Corruption, data storage, authentication, maybe—

“ _ Farah _ !” Someone who definitely wasn't Todd said.

Farah managed to pull her eyes off the screen and bring the phone up to her ear. “Who is this?”

“ _ It's Vogel _ !” Vogel said, “ _ I have Todd's phone because he was performing, but I'm freaking out man. I don't know what's happening _ .”

Now Farah was concerned. “What? What’s going on?”

“ _ All these guys in black showed up. I don't even, they just took them _ !”

“Took who?”

“ _ Amanda! And Todd and Dirk _ !”

“They were  _ taken _ ?”

“ _ Yeah, by the CIA _ !”

_ Shit _ .  _ Shit _ , Farah thought, snatching her purse. “Okay. I’m on my way.” 

 

+

Dirk was, surprisingly, led back to the barred jail cells without any further questions, but was disappointed to find them both empty. And here he was, banking on the fact that he could coordinate stories with Todd somehow before they talked to him. It wasn't long, though, before they brought Amanda back. “Dirk! You're okay!” She called as they led her past Dirk’s cell.

“Yes!” He jumped up and ran to her. “Are you?”

“Yeah I'm fine,” She said as they shut the door behind her. They crouched by the wall and connected hands. “Where's Todd?”

“I don't know. Did they interrogate you?”

Amanda snorted. “They tried. I didn't tell them anything.”

“I told them everything!” They suddenly heard Todd's voice shout, and Dirk turned to find them carting the body to accompany it back inside. “I'm sorry!”

“It's okay! Todd, it's okay,” Dirk assured, meeting him at the door and pulling him into a hug. “Everything's going to be okay.”

-

“Let's start with the obvious: where is Farah?”

“Bergsberg, she—” Todd started, then blanched. “The Cardenas’ house burned down. She went to help Tina.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“Oh my god.”

“I forgot!”

Amanda was freaking out and talking about Litzibitz while Dirk just stared at Todd and processed. “I’ll figure that out later,” He announced. “What did you tell them,  _ exactly _ ?”

“I said, Mona Wilder helped you escape, then you helped her—”

“You told them I escaped?”

“Yes. No. I don’t remember?”

Amanda was back to paying attention again, giving Todd that look like he was the dumbest person on Earth. Todd tried to ignore it as Dirk prodded, “Okay, go on.”

“We run Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, Mona helped us, so we helped her move to L.A. and that's where they could find her.”

“You told them my name?” Dirk clarified.

“Yes, I'm sorry! I thought they were hurting you!” 

“It's okay, it's okay. Just listen, this is very important. They asked me about Wendimoor.  _ Remember _ , Wendimoor isn't real.”

“...Right.”

“Yeah.”

“My friend who is _a_ _boy_ , made it up, and then moved to _Wuh_ -Winnipeg,” Dirk stressed.

“Winnipeg.”

“And that's why we named our band after it,” Todd finished, and Dirk could've kissed him.

But he didn't. “Right. It's not like a government agency could find the word ‘Wendimoor’ on the internet or anything, if they happened to be trying to find people who knew what 'Wendimoor’ was. Oh wait, I  _ just realized _ , we put the word 'Wendimoor’ on the website for our band.”

Amanda started laughing for trying not to freak out. Todd just laid back and put his hands over his face. “Shit,” He said. 

Dirk was only feeling more confused. Which would have been a good sign, if this was a case, but it wasn't. At least he didn’t think it was. Maybe—

“—knows about the accident,” Someone said, cutting off Dirk's thoughts. Looking up, he saw two guards approaching.   
"They suspects?" The second said.   
"No no, a white chick and a black dude did it. He just knows about it.” The first guard pointed at Todd, who sat up and grabbed Amanda's hand.

Dirk grabbed Todd's face as they unlocked the door. “Don't tell them anything. Try to find out what you can, but don't use  _ any _ names.”

Todd nodded as the guards pulled him away. Amanda stretched her arm through the bars but they pulled their hands apart. “It's going to be okay!”

The door at the end of the hall slammed shut. Todd, and the guards, were gone.

“This isn't Blackwing,” Dirk said, settling up against the bars near Amanda again.

“What?” She said, joining him.

“It can't be. It explains why they don't know anything. And did you see that guards badge? It was totally different from the Blackwing badges.”

“So who are they? Where are we? Are we even in America? And why are they searching the internet for 'Wendimoor’ if they don't know what it is?”

Dirk sighed. “I don't know. But I don't think it matters, because I can get us out of here.”

 

+

“Why don’t we start with what you know about Wendimoor?”

“We’re pretty good. Mostly covers, but I write too.”

“I meant the place.”

“Right! It’s fake, but you knew that.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah, you did,” Todd snarked. “So why don’t you leave me and my friends to make music and solve mysteries, and you can all go back to doing whatever it is you did before you started arresting innocent people.”

The interrogator gave him a shallow smile. “We have reason to believe that Wendimoor is related to a top secret project of the CIA, and you folks aren’t leaving until we figure out why.”

“We don't know why, Dirk told you…” Todd trailed off when he noticed the look on her face. Like, smug. “What?”

“Dirk is protected. Someone's doesn't want him here, so he isn't going to be here long. You and the girl, though… Let's just say there's not much we're not allowed to do.”

“Protected? By who? From what?”

“Well, you gotta be important to issue it, I'll say that much. And it's basically a hall pass. Can't be arrested, detained, or charged in America. Internationally, there's a number to get him acquitted and extradited.”

“A number...of dollars.”

“...Yes.”

Todd's brain wouldn't process that. First, the CIA wanted him locked away forever, and now they want him to run free without consequence? Who would issue that? Why? Was this someone's idea of an apology?

“Changed your mind?”

Todd shook his head. “Nope.”

“How about this agency. It's called a  _ holistic _ detective agency? What's that about?”

Todd rolled his eyes. “It's Dirk's thing. You know, yoga and  _ chakra _ and whatever.”

She looked dubious but didn't challenge him.“Well, any more info about this Wilder character would be great.”

His stomach turned with regret, so he just shook his head again. 

“Good talk,” She said, and left.

 

+

“ _ Hello? Mona? Is this thing on _ ?”

Mona instantly woke, sitting up and looking around.

“ _ Hey _ !”

She could hear the voice, but she couldn't see where it was coming from. “You're not a snail.”

The voice spoke like it was trying to rush but kept struggling to find the next word. “ _ No! I'm not but I'm...something else. Listen, do you want to help Dirk Gently _ ?”

“Only if it's my turn,” Mona stated, as if it was obvious. She thought back and then said, “Yeah I'll help!”

 

+

Porter started biting her nails. Mulaney, her coworker who had gotten that bullshit story from the Gently guy, shot her a look. Porter couldn’t stop; she did it when she was out of ideas. First Gently and now their friend, 'Mona Wilder’, had level 5 civilian clearance. They were untouchable. Porter knew this assignment would be out there when she’d received it a month ago, but it was starting to get outright strange.

“She online? If she's in L.A. she's probably an actress or something,” Porter said to Leon. He was useless in an interrogation room, obviously, but could find his way around a computer.

Except when it was spitting out sad little  _ beep _ s. “I can't even Google her,” Leon griped. He dragged her picture into image search—same icky  _ beep _ . He opened something else and started typing furious, incomprehensible text.

“We're never gonna find her,” Mulaney droned.

 

+

“They're finding Mona,” Todd announced morosely as he was carted back to the cells.

“Yes!” Amanda immediately cheered.

“What?!” Todd returned as the door slammed behind him.

“It's okay,” Dirk said, hugging Todd quickly. “That's the plan.”

“How is that the plan?”

“It's Mona's turn to help us, so, if they bring her in, she can break us out.” 

“No she can't! Not that you care, because you have some freaky CIA immunity!”

Amanda looked at Dirk, who just looked confused. “What?” He said, genuinely distressed.

“Yeah! The CIA person told me, Dirk's getting out of here!”

He processed that. “Why—”

“I don't know! She might be lying. This is all probably some sick joke,” Todd said, sinking down into the bed. 

Dirk and Amanda just stared at him, confused and disappointed. Todd supposed it wasn't their fault; it wasn't Dirk's fault he was tortured as a child and was  _ now of all times _ receiving his cosmic retribution.

_ Shit _ , Todd thought. “Okay, what’s this plan with Mona?”

Dirk jumped back into his cheerful gesticulation, but Todd could see the hesitation in his eyes. “So, it's Mona's turn to help us.”

“I didn't know we were taking turns,” Todd joked.

“Of course we are; keep up Todd. Mona gets thrown in here, she turns into a cannon or something, blows a hole in the wall and we walk free.”

_We’re_ _gonna die in here._ Todd just nodded, not really looking anyone in the eye.

“Go ahead, poke holes in it,” Dirk said, sensing Todd's insincerity.

“It's just, what if they don't lock her in here? What if she can't turn into something useful? What if she blows out a wall and there's another behind it? And another? We couldn't get home even if we did get out because we don't know where we are.”

“You got a better idea?” Amanda asked.

“I let them torture me and you two go free,” Todd posed.

“Todd!”

“C’mon.”

“I don't know. Dirk's getting out anyways, that should help, right?”

“He can't get to Mona before they do,” Amanda reasoned.

“Dirk gets out, solves the case, and everything works out.”

Dirk reacted. “Case? What case? There's no case here, just—”

_ Kachunk _ . The lights went out.

The suddenness startled them all into silence for a moment, which allowed for the exhaustion to set in. It must have been midnight by that point.

“Well, I guess this is good night,” Dirk said, and Todd pushed thoughts about Dirk's lights turning on and off for him for months out of his head.

“No hanky panky,” Amanda ordered.

“No promises,” Dirk teased as he climbed into bed with Todd, even though there was two in their cell.

“Fuck you,” was called out in lieu of a visual version.

“Good night to you too,” Todd called. He pulled Dirk in until their foreheads touched and their legs twined together. They breathed, chests swelling in and out together. Todd listened as more doors far away were locked. He listened to Dirk breathing. 

“I love you,” Dirk whispered.

Todd squeezed him in and whispered, “I love you too.”

“I'm going to get us  _ all _ out of here, okay?” 

The sentiment warmed Todd's heart, but he didn't say anything back. He couldn't. Just laid there in the dark until Dirk turned over and settled into a position they could actually sleep in.

 

+

They had a minute for goodbyes before a bag was pulled over Dirk's head and he was led out of the building. The guard took him through so many twisting and turning hallways, Dirk was beginning to think they were just trying to confuse him. But then, the sound of feet pounding on concrete approached, and the guard grabbed Dirk's jacket so he'd stop. 

“Leon?” The guard asked.

“It's…” Leon’s voice said, then panted. Dirk could hear that he was out of breath. “It's Recovery. They pulled his name out of a project file.”

“Recovery?”

But Leon was already running away and slamming through a door. 

Dirk had to act, and  _ now _ . He spun around and punched somewhere, connecting with something hard. The guard yelped. Dirk pulled off his hood and punched again, clocking the guard in the temple. As he crunched away from Dirk, Dirk spun back around and headed for a sign spelling 'Exit’. It took a few doors, but eventually he bursted out a door that opened to a few feet of concrete, then forest. Dirk followed the building until he came to the road. He took a second to process what he was seeing, then smiled and whispered to no one, “Did it.”

 

+

Dirk was gone for minutes before Todd and Amanda realized something was wrong. Footsteps pounded down the hall towards their cells, a guard sliding to stop when he saw them. “He's not by lock-up. The other two are secure.”

“What's going on?” Todd asked, but something crackled over the guards walkie talkie and he sped off, giving Todd a dirty look.

Something was wrong, and there was nothing Todd or Amanda could do about it. They stood there, separated, powerless. Vague shouts and crashes kept them wanting but told them nothing. Eventually, Amanda sat on her bed and started lacing and unlacing her boots for something to do. Todd sat criss-cross on the floor so he could watch the door down the hallway.

“This is good, right?” Amanda said.

Todd didn’t see how any part of their situation was good. “What?”

“Things are starting to get really weird, so Dirk’s about to solve the case and save us all.”

Todd thought about it. Then shrugged. “I guess.”

 

+

Dirk was relying on the fact that it would be very difficult to contact the taxi cab his captors had called for him once they were driving. Seeing it waiting, Dirk had hopped in, picked a direction he’d liked and was now hoping for the best, a few miles away from the people who couldn’t stop changing their minds about him. They really had picked a place in the middle of nowhere, as he hadn't seen anything other than trees in 10 minutes. That's all that was out there. There was nothing between the CIA facility and Seattle. Nothing.

Well, nothing except two people dressed in rags and carrying weapons, walking up the shoulder of the road.

“Stop the car!” Dirk shouted, and the driver obeyed. “They paid you, right? Thanks!” He said, sliding out. 

“Dirk?” Bart said, as the taxi sped off.

“Bart! Ken!” Dirk greeted, trying to maintain a safe distance between himself and the sharp bits. “I knew it! Everything’s connected.”

“What are you doing here?” Ken asked, surveying his surroundings as if expecting something other than trees.

“Oh!” Dirk reacted, and almost bragged, “I got captured by the CIA. Again.”

Ken looked confused. “But…That doesn’t…”

Dirk glanced back the way he came from, mentally converting driving minutes to walking minutes. “I know, but, we should probably get going if we’re going to help Amanda and Todd break out of that top secret facility.”

Bart immediately smiled. It took a second, but Ken mirrored and looked at Bart. “You were right.”

She scoffed. “Why do you still do this, man? You of all people should be used to the universe interfering by now.” Bart shook her head, slung her machete over her shoulder and started walking.

Dirk jumped out of the way, inadvertedly putting himself into Ken’s path, who started, “So how—”

“Why don’t I start from the beginning?” Dirk suggested. He walked, eager to avoid Ken’s grenade launcher. 

“Please.”

 

+

The good news was, things only got weirder. At least for a moment. Todd and Amanda heard a huge  _ crash _ , this time really close. A cat that didn’t belong in America growled and men started screaming. There was gunshots and scratching and then… 

A penny rolled through the crack between the door and the doorjamb. It traveled perfectly down the center of the hallway until it was inches from Todd.

Then, it morphed into Mona Wilder.

“Mona?” Todd shrieked, scrambling to stand. 

“Hi Todd!” She said, and hugged Todd through the bars as best she could. “I’m here to help!”

“Awesome! This is my sister Amanda,” Todd introduced. Amanda and Mona met at the edge and shook hands. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Oh! I don’t know.”

Todd sighed. “Right.”

“You can turn into anything, right?” Amanda asked, and Mona nodded excitedly. “Just turn into a gun.”

“No!” Todd yelled, grabbing Mona’s arm. “No guns! No weapons, at least until we have a plan. We have no idea where we are, or how to get out. The first thing we need is information.”

“Oh! We can get anywhere in the building,” Mona said, then pointed upwards, “Through that.”

Todd examined the air conditioning grate in the ceiling. Fifteen feet up, even with Dirk here they couldn’t have reached it before. But now…

Shouts and footsteps sounded. 

Todd looked to Mona. “Hurry.”

 

+

Farah was scared. She was really scared. They had been gone for less than a day, but that was less than a day too long. Her gun was pressing into her hip as she paced Dirk and Todd's kitchen. “Are you sure you don't know where Blackwing is?” She asked again.

“I'm sure!” Vogel confirmed.

Farah breathed. She walked back into the bedroom. She took her gun, removed the clip, put everything in the side table and walked away. Shutting the bedroom door behind her, she started, “Maybe—”

_ Slam _ . “NOBODY MOVE!”

Farah immediately threw her hands up and turned towards the door.  _ Perfect _ , she thought, _ A crazy white dude with a gun _ . Because that was exactly who had just broken down the door to their apartment.

“Nobody move,” Their attacker repeated. Farah looked to check Vogel was cooperating; he was.

“What do you want?” Farah asked, not brash but not nice either. 

“Where’s Dirk Gently?” He yelled.

_ Famous last words _ . “Not here. Who are you?”

“I just want to know where Gently is, okay? It’s important!”

_ Oh, really? Is that why you brought the gun? _

“Sit down!” He yelled, motioning to the table, and Farah and Vogel complied.

 

+

Finally out of the woods, literally, Dirk, Bart, and Ken paused as they came to the CIA building. 

Dirk looked at Bart. Bart looked at Ken.

Ken didn't like this. “Why are you looking at me? You're the holistic ones.” 

Bart rolled her eyes and set off around one side of the building, ignoring what still sat across the street. Ken and Dirk scurried after her. 

The uniform brick walls stretched high, smooth and unyielding. Every so often, a glossy, handleless door mocked them. Ken's grenade launcher was seeming a little small. “What are we looking for?” Ken asked, tightening his grip on it.

“I dunno,” Bart confessed. 

Dirk decided Ken just wasn't good in these situations. “Maybe there's a window?”

Bart suddenly paused in front of one of the door. “That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard,” She said, and drove her machete up through the solid metal. Bart backed up slowly and the door slid open. “After yous.”

Ken couldn't hide his perplexion as he slid through it. Dirk tried to give her a smile but wasn’t pleased with the proximity to sharp edges that this rescue was requiring. “Thanks,” He managed, and followed Ken down the dark hallway as he heard Bart extract the machete.

“Shhh,” Ken said, holding up his hand. The hall was short, T-ing off in two equally dark directions. He leaned out, assessed their limited options, and slid around the corner to his left.

Dirk scrambled to follow. Bart was lumbering along behind them, ever fearless. This corridor was long and had lots of doors, but was empty, for now.

When footstep sounds reached them, Ken looked to Bart with a panicked look, who shrugged and threw open the closest closet. They filed through, pushing mops and paint buckets out of the way until—

_ Thump _ . All three of them looked to the ceiling, trying to find the noise.  _ Thump _ . 

“Let’s go!” Ken scream-whispered, pressing for the door, but Bart grabbed him.

“Wait!” She said.

_ Thump _ . Dirk’s heart was about to beat out of his chest, but he had to trust Bart. She was always right.

_ Thump. Crash! _

The grate over the vent was pushed out and fell to the ground. Dirk waved over his head to clear the dust, eventually finding, “Mona?!?”

“Hi Dirk!” Mona returned, waving back at him. “I stole Todd and Amanda!”

“I told you so,” Bart teased.

“ _ Dirk _ ?”

“ _ What’s going on _ ?”

Dirk ignored the voices echoing out of the vent. “Great work, thank you!” He said, as Mona transformed into a bee, set herself down on the ground, and then changed into a ladder.

Amanda’s face appeared in the ceiling next. “Dirk!”

“Amanda! I found you!” He exclaimed, and helped her find footing on the ladder. Once safely on the ground, she threw her arms around him.

“I got it,” Dirk heard Todd say. He looked beyond his hug to see Todd struggling to lower himself out of the ceiling. “I got this.” Amanda wasn’t letting go, so neither was Dirk.

“I can’t believe this,” Ken murmured.

Amanda relinquished Dirk as Todd made his way down. “Thanks,” He said.

Dirk smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“I was talking to Mona,” Todd clarified, as she turned human again. Dirk pouted. Todd rolled his eyes, grabbed Dirk’s collar and pulled him into a kiss.

Maybe if they hadn’t been in a tiny broom closet, the company wouldn’t have reacted so quickly and so loudly. “Eugh.”

“Really?”

“We really should go,” Ken pointed out, as more footsteps raged around them. “Ladies first?” He asked in Bart’s direction, who nodded. He swung open the door and she stalked out. Dirk counted to three before the icky metal-on-flesh sounds began. 4 or 5 guys cried out before Bart confirmed, “Clear!” They filed back out of the closet, down the hall, around the corner, and back outside through the scarred door.

-

“What is  _ that _ ?” Todd exclaimed, halting to a stop. They were running up the side of the CIA building towards the road. From far away it was hard to tell, but now Todd could see: across the road, a 10 foot fence surrounded a giant pile of rubble.

“Oh right,” Dirk said, coming up next to him and managing a swooping  _ snap _ , “Did it!”

“This way!” Bart yelled, running towards a van parked out front.

“I’ll explain on the drive,” Dirk promised, grabbed Todd’s hand, and ran.

-

“So,” Dirk began, crouching backwards on the seat of the stolen van. Bart and Ken were up front and had already heard the speech. Todd was next to Dirk, and Amanda and Mona were in the very back, eager and confused. “Almost a year ago, after all the Wendimoor nonsense, Ken is running Blackwing. Bart turns herself in, and convinces Ken to run away with her. Blackwing wasn’t looking for us anymore, but Ken issues level 5 civilian clearance to all former subjects, just in case before he leaves. Ken destroys all the files, Bart kills all the people—literally everyone. Anyone who even knew about Blackwing. So there’s this building full of dead bodies, and no one left alive in the CIA knows what it is. So they blow it up, and build a new facility on the lot across the street.”

“No,” Todd said on instinct.

“Yes.”

“That was Blackwing?” Amanda asked, referencing the pile of rubble they had left behind.

“If my 10 year old memory—and Bart and Ken serve me right, yes. That was Blackwing.”

“So, who kidnapped us?” Todd asked.

“Good question, Todd,” Dirk sincerely complimented. “The new facility is for the new division that’s made to try and figure out what exactly happened next door. Now, Ken wiped all the hard drives, but it’s really difficult to erase information permanently. They’re running one hell of a recovery operation on the computers that were left behind. They probably got a lot, actually, but if you don’t have any context, it’s hard to make sense of corgis or Icarus or holistic or—”

“Wendimoor,” Amanda interjected. Todd shook his head.

“Exactly.”

Todd spoke up next. “Okay but, where did these two come from?”

“Universe told me to,” Bart announced.

Dirk gave Todd a look. “Duh. Oh, also, Bart and Ken burned down the Cardenas’ house. It was evidence. Tina and Hobbes are just moving a lot slower than the CIA.” Dirk looked between Todd and Amanda, who looked concerned but didn't say anything for a moment.

Then Amanda snapped out of it and proposed, “What about Mona? Did they bring you here?”

Mona shook her head. “The voice told me, duh!”

There was less consensus on the ‘duh’ in this situation. “The snail?” Dirk tried.

“No, a different voice. He said his name was French Fry.”

Bart turned around, smiling. “You met French Fry?” She yelled, making Todd jump.

“Who is—”

“ _ Friedkin _ ?” Ken shrieked, and had to veer to keep on the road. “No! No, he’s—I…” He trailed off, looking distressed.

“Ken, what did you do?” Dirk asked, suddenly very interested in Ken, though Todd for the life of him couldn’t guess why.

“I pushed him! Okay? I pushed him into the portal thingy.”

“But he didn’t come through,” Dirk said. He turned back to address Todd and Amanda. “No one else came through the portal.”

“No—”

“I mean—”

“Then where did he go?” Dirk posed, “If he went through the portal but didn’t make it to Wendimoor, he must be…”

Amanda suddenly realized that Dirk wouldn’t be able to finish that sentence. “The backstage of reality,” She said, and it hit Todd like a ton of bricks.

“But he—”

“You don’t think—”

“That was the stream of creation,” Todd said, and he and Amanda knew it in their souls to be true. He looked to Dirk, who was taking his turn being utterly lost. “We  _ saw  _ the stream of creation, and now Friedkin is controlling it.”

 

+

Farah just couldn’t go a year without being trapped somewhere anymore. Dirk and Todd had been annoying jailmates, but she was starting to miss being alone, chained to a bed for how much Vogel was talking. “Do you think she’s gonna be mad at me? I tried, I really did, but those guys were gone so quickly I couldn’t follow ‘em. I tried, but she’s gonna be so mad. I’m gonna have to tell the guys—”

“Vogel. Shut. Up.”

“I just really wanted to do right by her, you know? And—”

Farah’s captor was subpar too. Not even scary, really, pacing back and forth and muttering to himself, but she wasn’t stupid enough to try and take him without a weapon. The scenery as well. Farah felt like she was learning far too much about Todd and Dirk’s personal lives, having nothing else to stare at.

She was trying to figure out which owned lime green crocs when the sound of a vehicle approaching and parking reached them. The guy heard it too, and moved cautiously to the window. 

“Is that them?” Vogel asked.

“Shut up!” He yelled, and Vogel did. Voices drifted in. Farah wished she could see the window. 

“Not a sound,” The guy ordered. He stalked to the front door, threw it open and left.

_ This is your chance _ , Farah thought. She probably had less than a minute before he realized it was just some strangers. She made quick work of the basic restraints he’d fashioned, and put one finger to her lips when Vogel realized and had started to react. Farah slipped out and crossed to the bedroom. 

Shouts erupted from the hallway. Her heart jumped, and she rushed to put the gun back to together. The clip stuck at first but she managed it in, releasing the safety and blazing out of the bedroom as she heard the front door open again.

“NOBODY MOVE!” Farah commanded.

Amanda and Todd threw their hands up.

“Drummer!”

“Todd?” Farah said, and lowered her gun.

“Vogel!” Amanda ran over and started untying him.

But then, her attacked came back through the door. “Hey—”

“FREEZE,” She yelled again, and he complied, gun already shoved haphazardly in his pants. Amateur. 

But then. Of course. Dirk Gently was bound to poke his head into a situation like this. “No, he’s okay! Lieutenant Assistent is with us!” Dirk announced.

Farah didn’t back down. “He held us hostage!” 

“I didn’t know you were his friends!” The guy claimed, “I thought he was in trouble. You guys were in his apartment.”

Farah breathed, then lowered her gun. Apparently Dirk trusted him. Dirk scurried through the door, followed by two people she remembered as Bart and Ken. Farah holstered her gun and accepted Todd’s hug. “What the hell,” She muttered, tears starting to form as Todd squeezed her. “What the  _ hell  _ happened?”

 

+

After Farah got her own version of the Did it! speech and Bart and Assistent were all caught up, they sat Assistent down to explain himself. “I told Ken he—”

“We can skip that part,” Ken informed.

Assistent obliged. “Basically, I got fired from Blackwing. I was bored, so I hacked their servers, and then all of it went dark. I didn't know what had happened so I did some more digging and found the new division. Based on their activity, I knew something big must have happened and they were trying to figure out what. Then I saw them search for Dirk. And I hated my job, you know, I didn't want this to be Blackwing 2.0. So I came to check on Dirk and found these strangers. I—… I was just trying to help, I promise. Farah, Vogel, I'm sorry. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“You've done enough,” Farah said, but Dirk suddenly started.

“No no no, we can work with this.”

 

+

“I worked for the CIA in the building across the street. I got fired,” Assistent said.  _ For insulting my supervisor _ , he didn’t say. “Then I was bored, so I hacked your servers.” I played with the recovery software a bit, started putting words through that shouldn’t have been there.”

“Like what?” The interrogator asked.

“Like…I dunno, fictional characters? Names of bands I like? But then I panicked and faked some civilian clearance orders. But then you searched for Dirk Gently, and I panicked again. Anyways, he told me what happened, and I want to clear things up. Dirk and his friends, they don’t have anything to do with this, really. I made it all up,” He lied.

The interrogator looked to the guy in the corner, who shrugged and nodded. “You really hacked our servers?” She asked.

Assistent blinked. “Yeah?” 

“Well, our recovery team doesn’t know what they’re doing, apparently. Think you could fix them up?”

“Are you…offering me a job?”

“Are you accepting?”

“I mean…Yeah.”

The interrogator stuck out her hand. “I’m Porter, that’s Leon. Welcome to Project Whitefoot.”

 

+

“So, Assistent can tell them whatever he wants about Blackwing and they'll believe him?” Todd asked, shocked by how well this was all turning out.

Farah leaned her head up to nod, then let it fall back down onto the pillow. “Yeah.”

“Plus!” Dirk said, one hand on Todd's chest to push himself up, “We all have civilian clearance orders now.”

“You mean we could rob a bank and no one would arrest us?” Amanda proposed.

Todd shoved Dirk off to look down the row of sleeping bags on his and Dirk's bedroom floor. “No! No felonies. That is for emergencies only.” Dirk snuggled in behind Todd, who was next to Farah, who had been sandwiched between them and Vogel and Amanda.

“I'm gonna be a bank robber when I grow up,” Amanda announced anyways, and raised one hand for Vogel to high five. Todd gave up and laid back into Dirk's hug.

“Are Bart and Ken really gonna live on the streets again?” Farah asked Dirk.

He shrugged. “They’ve done it before. Not well, I don't think, but they're still alive.”

“Blackwing subjects don't like being tied down! We have to be free,” Vogel explained.

“That is a harmful stereotype!” Dirk exclaimed. “Some of us want to stay right where we are,” He said, and pressed a kiss into Todd's hair. Todd smiled.

“Also you live in a house now,” Amanda pointed out. Vogel made a face like he hadn't realized that until that moment.

“Okay,” Farah said, “We've all had a long day. We should sleep.”

 

+

“Hey,” Ken said the next morning, when Bart woke to the sunlight. He had driven south all night at her instruction. 

“Hey.”

She didn't elaborate. Ken thought she had been acting differently, less excited, since they'd taken a match to the Cardenas’, but he wasn't going to pretend he was an expert on Bart's behavior. “Are you okay?” He settled for.

She shrugged. “Yeah. Why?”

He shouldn't do this. He really shouldn't. “Is it Panto?”

Bart just looked away, confirming it. Ken’s heart panged with empathy.

“It's okay to miss him. You destroyed the only way you could ever see him again, that's hard.”

Bart just stared out at the road. Eventually, she said. “I know he's happy. That's what matters.”

Ken smiled. Nodded to himself. “Yeah.”

 

\+ Almost a year later

Friedkin watched as Todd struck the final chord. The audience went wild. Friedkin could feel the hype.  _ I should go to concerts more often _ , He thought to himself.

The emcee jogged out, and the members of the other competing bands started clumping on stage. It was time for the audience to vote. Todd, Dirk and Amanda were hugging. They had played really well, and they sounded twice as good as they had at the last Battle of the Bands—at least, that was what Friedkin thought. 

“Alright! That was a great show guys, props to all of you. Audience, it's time to vote. Cheer for your favourites.” The emcee started reading. The audience screamed.

Looking down on the stage, Dirk and his friends just looked so...hopeful. They’d worked really hard, Friedkin had seen it. Even though they’d started referring to him exclusively as French Fry, he was rooting for them now. And he  _ knew _ he wasn't supposed to help Dirk, that just wasn't how it worked.

“And finally, Wendimoor Moon!” 

The audience  _ erupted _ . The energy almost knocked Friedkin out of the sky. Unless there was another benevolent being controlling the stream of creation from the backstage of reality, Moon had earned it. 

Friedkin smiled. He wished he hadn't ruined their night by subliminally convincing that one asthmatic audience member to leave their inhaler at home, but how else would Dirk find the Secret Society for Gate Appreciation?

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, what a ride! This started as a 'Wouldn't it be funny if they made a band, named it after an inside joke and then got kidnapped by the CIA because of it?' fic. Working title: God tier ending funny band plot. Dubious relatedness to the final product.  
> I wrote a song once with a friend. It was really sad so she said I should write another one, but this time it should be happy. I made a document named 'Happy Song' and never gave it a different title. When I sent it to her she didn't know what I was talking about and now we haven't seen each other in years.  
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and if we never get a real season 3, I hope this scratches some of those itches! I would love your kudos + comments!  
> 


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